


i don't even recognize our faces

by bronzemist



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Multi, Polyamory, Star Trek Beyond, if you've seen the movie you know what the Major Character Deaths are, villains in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 16:30:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8674600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bronzemist/pseuds/bronzemist
Summary: Manas no longer remembered what it felt like to be human; his real life had only begun once he had Krall and Kalara.





	

**2164**

The Federation had abandoned them.

Anderson Le knew that Captain Edison believed that. He knew that Lieutenant Wolff believed that as well. Anderson agreed with them while they raged, remained silent as they cursed the Federation and everything it stood for. It was only in the privacy of his own mind that he wondered if the Federation had truly abandoned them, or if they had gone so far that their distress signals could not bridge the distance.

The natives of this planet had vanished long ago, but they had left behind cavernous mines, mining equipment, and a drone workforce which the three remaining survivors had yet to learn to control. But none of these things interested the Captain as much as the energy transference technology.

It reminded Anderson of the legend of the Fountain of Youth his mother had told him as a child - taking life from one person and giving it to another. It made him queasy, though he hid his misgivings from the Captain and Lieutenant Wolff. While they focused all of their attention on learning how to manipulate the strange technology they had found, Anderson focused on keeping the three of them alive. They had lost all of their fellow crewmembers, and he was determined not to lose any more.

Besides, Anderson was not a soldier like Captain Edison, nor a scientific genius like Lieutenant Wolff. He was a lowly ensign, tasked with keeping the _Franklin_ running smoothly. And that was what he continued to do, while the Captain and Lieutenant Wolff pored over strange technology, forcing the _Franklin’s_ translator program to its limits.

They could have done worse for a planet to crash on, Anderson reflected. This planet was habitable, with freshwater that required only minor filtration before being safe to consume. The climate was mild, leaning more to the cool than the warm though perhaps that would change over time - they had only been here for a month. The ship’s replicator was still functioning adequately, though if the Captain and Lieutenant Wolff were right they would no longer need it once they figured out the energy transference process. Anderson both looked forward to and dreaded the day.

He did not want to take a life.

 

**2179**

Anderson no longer recoiled at the sight of his face in the mirror. He had finally adjusted to the changes the energy transference worked on his body. Balthazar and Jessica had adapted more quickly, but that did not surprise him - they did everything more quickly than he. Jessica had learned how to manipulate the drone workforce within weeks of their crash on this remote planet, and now she and Balthazar had made the drones into a fine-tuned machine - harvesting the few materials and resources they needed to survive. 

They had not returned to the _Franklin_ in many years. They no longer needed its technology, and Anderson knew that Balthazar and Jessica despised the sight of it. It reminded them of the Federation which had abandoned them, the false promises of peace and utopia.

Their anger had simmered, become a seething hatred of everything the Federation was. Anderson was content to follow their lead. They were his family, the only family he had left, and he would guard them and protect them.

Early into their stay on this planet, Balthazar had translated some of the records that the natives had left behind. Millennia ago these people had created a weapon unlike anything the three humans had ever seen before. It was called the Abronath, and when the natives had realized what they had created, they had separated it into pieces and cast those pieces into space, in hopes that it would never be used.

Balthazar wanted to find the pieces. He had concocted a plan - a plan of revenge, revenge against the Federation. Anderson had no idea how they would find the missing pieces of the weapon, lost for thousands of years to space, but it had renewed Balthazar and Jessica. He had not seen them so energized, so focused, since before the _Franklin_ had crashed. Anderson found he did not care whether they found the pieces of the Abronath or not. He only cared that it had made Balthazar and Jessica hopeful, that it had made them want to live.

 

**2199**

Anderson was no longer Anderson. His name was Manas now, just as Balthazar was now Krall, as Jessica was now Kalara. They no longer spoke English. The energy transference process did not just change them physically - it changed them completely. They had adopted the language of one of the many species who had since crashed on this planet, one of the many species they had since drained. Krall wanted to erase all association between them and the Federation; between them and humanity.

Manas was willing to obey. He would do anything for Krall and Kalara, anything they asked.

The memories of all the beings he had drained over the years warred in his mind; sometimes he could not tell what was him and what was not. His dreams were full of strange things, memories of people and places he had never seen. He only knew for certain which memories and dreams were his when Krall and Kalara were in them. His love for them was overwhelming. They were all he had, after the Federation abandoned them.

The hunt for the Abronath took them away from the planet, Altamid, often, sometimes for weeks at a time. Krall insisted that they always go together; he would not allow them to be separated. Manas did not argue, for the idea of separation was repulsive to him as well.

How had he ever been happy before this?

 

**2210**

Kalara gasped as Manas ran his hand along the crest where her hair had once been. She reached forward, pulling Krall to her and raking her claws down his back. Krall easily stretched his arms around her lithe form, one hand going around Manas’ neck and pulling him into a harsh kiss over Kalara’s shoulder.

It was one of Manas’ favourite things, exploring the new sensitive places which emerged with every new species they drained, every new life they took. The changes which had once repulsed him, once made his stomach roil, now sent heat rushing through his body. Now he felt excitement rather than guilt every time he reached up to take another’s energy as his own, because he knew that this was what awaited.

Kalara moaned; Krall’s other hand, the one not on Manas’ neck, had disappeared between her body and his. Manas exchanged a brief look with Krall, and shifted so that his hand could join the other’s.

She had always been a selfish, needy thing, he thought wryly, as her moans reached new volume with the addition. Kalara nearly always insisted on being in the middle of their encounters, becoming pouty and demanding when she felt ignored. This did not bother Manas. He gained more pleasure from bringing her and Krall pleasure anyway.

Within moments Kalara screamed with release. As she slumped between them, Manas shifted his attention from her to Krall. If he had his way, the other would soon be joining Kalara in breathless, heady pleasure.

 

**2235**

It had taken so many years, but a piece of the Abronath was finally in their possession. Krall had not been in such a good mood in years, nor Kalara. Manas felt buoyed by their happiness, invigorated by the resurgence of their hope. They were one step closer to their revenge.

There had been hundreds of changes over the decades. If a human were to see them now, it would not recognize Krall, Kalara, or Manas as one of their own. Manas no longer felt human; he barely remembered a time before this. As far as he was concerned, his life had not truly begun until he had Krall and Kalara.

The latest ship they had brought down had spoken of the Federation. It appeared that the organization was expanding, pushing borders further and further into space. Yet it was nowhere close to reaching them yet. This did not disappoint Krall. Without the Abronath completed, they could not enact their revenge. But the decades had taught all of them patience. They would find the remaining piece, no matter how long it took.

After all, what did time matter, when one could live forever?

 

**2251**

Federation probes had begun landing on their planet. Krall and Kalara had learned how to use them to hack into the Federation’s systems, accessing their data.

Starfleet and the Federation were drawing ever closer to their corner of the universe. But it seemed that the organization had other problems beyond pushing their borders.

Nearly two decades previously, in 2233, Starfleet had learned what Krall had always known: that peace was a lie. One of their ships had been attacked, destroyed by Romulans.

This knowledge had thrilled Krall; Manas had rarely seen him so overjoyed. It confirmed everything they believed. Without the Federation, without ‘peace’, this Starfleet ship, this _Kelvin_ , would never have been destroyed. Humanity would have had soldiers, ready and waiting to defend Earth against the enemy. But no, they had believed in the lie of peace and unity and so they had paid the price.

Krall had fought in the Romulan wars in another lifetime. He had always known that the species could not be trusted, that an enemy which had slaughtered so many would never accept peace. And he had been right.

But the destruction of their starship had not made the Federation learn, and it had not changed Krall’s plans. He was more determined than ever to locate the missing piece of the Abronath, and unleash his vengeance on the Federation.

Manas and Kalara would support him, as they had for nearly a century now. The Federation needed to learn; they needed to understand that they had been lied to. Struggle and conflict were not to be erased; they were to be encouraged.

Suffering made one strong. It had made them strong, and so it would make others strong. They would survive or they would perish, but that did not matter to Manas. He had long ago stopped caring about the lives of any but himself, Krall, and Kalara. They were all that mattered.

 

**2263**

Death was swiftly approaching.

Kalara was dead. Krall was dead, or imprisoned and soon to be dead. Manas was alone on Altamid, alone but for the few vermin who had escaped them over the years. But it no longer mattered.

As the years had passed, they had needed to use the energy transference more and more often. It went from every few years, to once a year, to twice a year, to every month, and most recently, to every week. Without someone to drain, Manas knew that his days were numbered. But it no longer mattered.

Kalara was dead.

Krall would not return. He had always said that he would die deploying the weapon, that it was a sacrifice he would make to get his revenge against the Federation. Whether he had succeeded or not, he was not going to return for Manas.

It no longer mattered to Manas whether he lived or died. For lifetimes he had lived for Krall and Kalara; with them gone he was unmoored, drifting in a void darker and deeper than the blackest space. Why would he want to live without them?

He would never again hear their voices. He would never again watch the changes that flowed over them during transference. He would never again see the triumph on Kalara’s face as she slit a being’s throat, never again hear Krall’s roar as he crushed a windpipe.

He would never again touch them, feel their skin against his own, hear the moans and sighs of pleasure which he drew from their bodies. Never again stroke his hands over their bodies, seeking out new places to bring them pleasure.

Alien voices interrupted Manas’ reverie, but he paid them no mind. He was dying. It did not matter whether it happened naturally or by another’s hand. In fact, he almost wished they would kill him. He would be reunited with Krall and Kalara more quickly that way.

The voices grew louder, but Manas grew weaker. His vision began to darken around the edges, his knees weakening. He stumbled and fell to the ground.

 

_A cargo bay, a ship he had once known well and now barely remembered. Faces he had once put names to, but now seemed to blend into one._

_Then a face appeared that he would always know. Krall… Balthazar. As he had been, once, a century ago, before they were abandoned and changed beyond all recognition._

_The man who had once been called Anderson Le sobbed as Balthazar’s image was joined by Jessica’s. He had forgotten how handsome Balthazar had been, how beautiful Jessica was. He had forgotten how much he had loved them already, before they had been reborn._

 

The voices grew louder, more aggressive. Anderson could no longer see, but he felt the vibrations in the dirt. He sensed the end was near.

 

_“Come along, soldier.” Balthazar rumbled in that deep voice. Anderson reached out a hand, a human hand._

_“Come with us, Anderson.” Jessica purred, reaching out. Their fingers were about to brush._

 

The blade came down with a heavy, wet sound.

 

_Anderson took Jessica’s hand. His other was taken by Balthazar._

_“Our fight is over.” Balthazar said, pulling him up._

_“Will we stay together?” Anderson asked weakly._

_“Always.” Jessica promised him, pressing her body firmly against his. “Always and forever, Anderson.”_

_“You are my crew.” Balthazar declared, wrapping his arms around them both. “No one will ever take you away from me.”_

_Anderson let himself fall into their embrace. At last, he was home._

**Author's Note:**

> this was written at 4am after watching Beyond for the millionth time, and apparently I'm the only one who thinks Krall/Kalara/Manas is a thing


End file.
